


A Year of Third Wheels

by ninwrites, notcrypticbutcoy



Series: A Force This Powerful [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter AU, Hogwarts Third Year, Light Angst, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Relationship, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2020-10-04 22:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrypticbutcoy/pseuds/notcrypticbutcoy
Summary: A farm trip should be the peaceful start to their third year at Hogwarts, however Alec and Magnus quickly find themselves facing challenges more unique, complicated and personal than they've experienced before. Of course, a friendship as strong as theirs will weather and withstand everything, right?Between Quidditch trials, new friends, and unexpected opposing forces, only time can tell what third year will bring.





	1. In the Countryside

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! We're back!! As it's September 1st, the darling Lu thought today would be the perfect day to post the first chapter and I personally can't think of a more fitting time ♥ 
> 
> Welcome to Third Year

“Move your butt,” 

The whisper is harsh in the midnight quiet, nimble fingers prodding against Alec’s back, painful in their waking endeavour; still, he rolls over, tucking his feet beneath his knees, jolted by the dip of the mattress as Magnus sinks down beside him. 

Alec waits, until Magnus has stopped moving, until he seems relatively calm, before rolling over to face him. The edges of his face are sharpened by the moonlight drifting through the curtains, shadows backlighting his nose and ears, casting a shine on the creases below his eyes. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Magnus mumbles, hand curled beneath his chin. 

“Bad dream?” Alec asks, swallowing past his dry throat. It’s not the first time that Magnus has snuck into his bed, hardly the first time it’s happened since they came to Lily’s farm almost a week ago, but it’s still something that worries him.

“Something like that,” Magnus blinks, eyes wide under the night’s glow. “Just, something feels off, I couldn’t settle down enough to sleep. Is this okay? Because I can leave-“

“No,” Alec scoots closer, reaching for Magnus’ shoulder. “No, you don’t have to leave. I’d never kick you out, you know that.”

Magnus hums, pulling his knees up until he’s curled up into a tight ball. Alec frowns, pressing his thumb to the joint of Magnus’ shoulder. “Hey,” He whispers, voice as low as the night requires. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Magnus pouts, tucking his chin against his chest. “Maybe.” He amends, a second later. 

Alec moves his hand, until it’s covering Magnus’ knuckles. “I’ll listen if you want to. Otherwise, I can pretend to snore really obnoxiously so that it feels like you’re back at Hogwarts?”

Magnus laughs, a tiny sound that seems to burst forth without his awareness, but it’s a sound that Alec is grateful to hear. Being away from Magnus over the summer was hard, it always is, but seeing Magnus distressed with no way to help is quite possibly harder. 

“I don’t even remember it,” Magnus whispers, keeping his gaze cast down. “The dream. The nightmare. There was just, a lot of darkness, everywhere, I couldn’t move or touch anything, it’s like I was floating but I couldn’t see anything and it was – it was suffocating.” 

“Magnus-“

“I’m not new to having nightmares, but there was something different about this one.” Magnus lifts his head, at such an angle that the outside light reflects the tear stains on his cheeks. “I’m – I feel scared, Alec. It was just a figment of my imagination, I know this, I know that I can’t get hurt from a dream but … I can’t shake it off, either.”

Alec lifts his hand, using his thumb to wipe off the tears on Magnus’ cheeks. “Hey, hey, listen, it’s okay, everything’s okay. It’s okay that you feel like that, but I promise, _ you’re _ also okay. You’re safe, the nightmares can’t get you here.”

Magnus tucks his head against the knob of Alec’s shoulder, hands lacing with Alec’s. “I always feel safe around you,” He murmurs, sniffling. “This was the first place I thought of when I woke up, you – you always know how to make me feel better.”

“It’s what best friends are for,” Alec replies, voice breaking off at the end, his own tears choking up; Magnus is always so strong, so put-together, so fearless. It’s not a surprise, that he trusts Alec, just that Alec is the first Magnus thinks of. 

He presses a kiss to Magnus’ forehead, the way he would when Isabelle had a nightmare – the only experience he really has with supporting people coming out of bad dreams, is the times when his sister was little, and determined that the monsters in the cupboard were trying to squeeze under her bed. 

“You’ll be okay, Magnus.” He doesn’t know if it’s a bad idea, to promise something he can’t really guarantee, but he wants to do what he can to make Magnus feel better, and reassurance is as good as anything else.

“Of course I will,” Magnus mumbles, closing his eyes, his head resting against Alec’s. “I’ve got you to protect me from the monsters in the shadows.”

* * *

It’s not the sun that wakes them, nor the obnoxious rooster, Arthur, that Lily had warned them all to be wary of. 

No; it is, in fact, Lily herself, who storms into the room the way she’s known to, muck boots heavy against the hardwood floor, pulling them from sleep with a loud, and arguably affectionate _ “ _ _ cows don’t feed themselves, Lightwood”. _

Magnus pops his head up from beneath the covers, Alec’s knobby elbow digging into his stomach. Alec snores on, unaware of Lily’s intention to wake him and the situation she’s come to find him in. 

“You know, Magnus, we do have a room for you, too. Lightwood is a big boy, you don’t have to be attached at the hip all twenty four hours of the day.”

Magnus pulls himself up, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when Alec grunts and flops onto his back. “I missed him,” Magnus states, not altogether dishonest. 

He doesn’t mention the nightmares, figures it’s easier to let Lily think they’re just annoyingly close, like Simon and Clary, like everyone else thinks.

There’s something calculating to her gaze, though, which makes him wonder if Lily can see more than she lets on. 

“Breakfast is in twenty,” She states, letting her arms fall to her sides. “I’ll take care of the cows.”

Lily looks between them both, and then departs the room; there’s something about her gaze, something unspoken. Perhaps Magnus is just reading too much into it, but for a moment, it’s almost as though she’s saying _ ‘I’ll look after the cows - you look after him’. _

As though Alec is the one that needs to be coddled from nightmares.

* * *

Magnus heads to his room, feet darting quickly across the floor, the cold air nipping at his bare arms. He’d forgotten a jumper in his midnight move, hadn’t considered how cold the morning would be, before the sun had gotten a chance to even pretend it could do anything. 

The sun is barely poking above the horizon as it is, bright and lethargic in nature, but Magnus has never seen it as clear as he does from his bedroom window, and he thinks if nothing else, this can be a highlight of the trip. 

The countryside is beautiful, without the incessant smog of the city, even if Magnus thinks he’d find the small-town-quiet suffocating after a while. 

He tugs on old jeans, tattered at the knees, shoving the cuffs into mud-streaked boots that Lily had let him borrow for the trip. He throws on a shirt he can’t remember buying and a jumper with the sleeves stretched to fit over his hands. Summer should mean less layers, but he doesn’t like even a degree of cold and the tip of his nose is already itching with the threat of a sneeze. 

Alec is awake when he sneaks back into the room, or well, he’s trying to be; his fists fall from his eyes as Magnus shuts the door behind himself, nothing more than a second lasting before he’s grinning, equal parts bright and cautious. 

“G’morning,” Alec mumbles, raking a hand through his bird’s nest of hair. “How did you sleep?”

Magnus is grateful that ‘did you sleep’ isn’t where Alec took the question. 

“Utterly dreamless.” Magnus states, crossing the distance between them before flopping backwards on the bed, his head falling somewhere near Alec’s knee. “It was perfect.”

Alec reaches out, tangling his fingers in the ends of Magnus’ hair, longer now than it had been the last time they had seen each other, and soft too, fingers bumping against Magnus’ skull. It eases a pressure Magnus hadn’t even been aware was building. 

“And how are you feeling now?” Alec asks. It was a little naive of Magnus to think he could dodge the question, and it’s fine, Alec cares a lot, it’s just - a hard question to be faced with. 

He’d never lie to Alec, can’t bear the thought of it, but sometimes, he can’t even explain to himself how he’s feeling. 

“Better than I would have been if I had of stayed in my room.”

Alec hums, fingers still running through Magnus’ hair. “Maybe you should just stay with me for the rest of the trip.” He pauses, once the words are out, hands stilling atop Magnus’ head.

Magnus holds his breath, hoping that Alec won’t change his mind. Everything's better when Alec is around. It’s a fact of the universe. 

“If you want,” Alec whispers, after a moment. “I don’t want to pressure you, so long as you’re comfortable and happy, that - that is what matters.”

Magnus rolls over, so that he can look at Alec; there’s a hesitation to Alec’s smile that speaks of nerves, but nothing in his eyes that says he doesn’t understand what he’s suggesting. 

“Guess you’re stuck with me, then.”

Alec shakes his head, something settling in his smile. “You say that as though it is a bad thing.”

Magnus doesn’t say anything, just lets his eyes slip closed, letting Alec’s surety wash over him. 

“I can’t think of anything better.” Alec adds, because he can, because he has to have the last say. 

This time, Magnus lets him.

* * *

Magnus doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the quantity of food available at meal times, not even into his second week here. 

There’s a big, polished wooden six-seater table laid out with an insane spread of breakfast foods, buttered toast and pancakes with syrup and all manners of fruit and jams, bacon that’s perfectly crispy and eggs both scrambled and fried. Lily’s family enlist the best of their own products, but the proportions will never cease to amaze Magnus. 

If the food is always this good, he could get used to this farm life business; perhaps, without all of the mud and guck, though. He could do without the mess, and the smell. 

God, the smell of animals is not something a city boy will ever get used to, he’s learnt that much from this experience. 

(He hasn’t given in to a side of the country vs city debate yet, preferring to skirt around the edges where it’s safe - the last thing he needs is for Lily to smash an egg on his head or something. Devil’s advocate is his playing field.)

He’s only just started digging into the tower of food before him when Alec shuffles over, wrapped in one of Magnus’ house jumpers. 

“Oh, hey Sleeping Beauty.” Lily waves, almost knocking her younger brother Elliot in the head. Magnus hides a grin behind a piece of toast, considering absently that it wouldn’t be surprising if Lily intended to hit her brother, and simply missed. “It’s nice to see you’ve made the decision to join us this fine morning.”

Alec shrugs, dropping onto the seat next to Magnus. “It didn’t seem to fair to keep you waiting any longer. Plus the smell is amazing.”

Magnus shuffles over to give Alec more room, glancing at him slyly before plucking at his sleeve. “I love this sweater,” He grins. “Looks good on you.” 

Alec raises a tired eyebrow. “Perhaps you should get one of your own.”

Magnus inclines his head. “Oh is that it how it is?”

Alec stares back defiantly. Across the table, Lily taps her fork sharply against the table. “We do have an entire farm to pitch in on, guys, in case you’ve forgotten.We don’t exactly have time to dawdle around - even if Alec seems to be considering joining the superior house.”

“I didn’t choose Hufflepuff, Lily.” Alec pulls the sleeves of Magnus’ jumper down over his hands. “It - chose me.”

Lily shakes her head. “A true shame.”

* * *

Alec is grateful he changed - into an old _ Weird Sisters _ shirt and a tattered pair of overalls that Lily altered to fit his size - because after ten minutes in a pen he’s already splattered almost head to toe with mud. 

It’s entirely worth it. 

“What’s this one’s name?” He asks Elliot, kneeling in the mud with a hand carefully outstretched towards a spotted pink piglet. 

“Newt.” Elliot grins, the gap of his toothy smile reminding Alec that he’s only seven, barely older than Max. “I named him.”

“It’s a great name,” Alec smiles over his shoulder. “Like Newt Scamander?” 

Elliot nods. “Lily let me borrow one of her books on his magical creatures.”

“He’s one of my favourite wizards.” Alec admits, letting Newt the Piglet sniff his fingers, the touch tickling his skin. “Do you have a favourite magical creature?”

Elliot nods enthusiastically. “I like dragons! They breathe fire and have wings and can fly.”

“Did you know that Olivander, the wandmaker, uses dragon heartstrings in his wands sometimes?”

Elliot’s eyes widen. “No! That’s so cool! I hope my wand has dragon heartstring in it.” 

Alec glances at Newt the Piglet, who’s still sniffing his hand. “I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure that it will. Wands choose their owners, you know?”

If Elliot’s eyes widen any further, they’d likely bug out of his face. “Wands are so cool!”

Alec nods. “Even cooler once you know how to use them.”

“So long as you don’t lose or break them,” Magnus announces, skirting the edge of the pig pen. “Making new friends, Alec?”

“His name is Newt,” Elliot exclaims.”I named him!”

Alec’s reply is cut off when Newt sniffs his wrists, shucking mud up to splatter his cheek; laughter bubbles up his throat like sparks of magic falling from a wand and he has no intention of stopping it. 

“I don’t think this is quite what they meant by ‘muggle mud facials’,” Magnus quips, folding his arms atop the edge of the pen. “But it’s nice to see you doing stuff without magic.”

“I would sit in a pen of pud with Newt over taking a potions lesson _ any day _.” Alec exclaims. Newt snorts in response. Alec takes it as support. 

“Don’t let me stop your fun.” Magnus waves his fingers. “I’m off to collect eggs. Lily has put me on gathering duty.” He lifts his other hand, from which swings a small wicker basket. 

“Have fun.” Alec smiles, because he has to, because it’s Magnus and he looks more excited to collect eggs than he did every tutoring session. 

It seems there’s fun for them both here. Lily is practically going to break out into a dance when she finds out they’re both leaning towards the country side of the debate. 

* * *

“How does it feel to know you’re going to be the youngest Hufflepuff to join the team since the last winning House Captain, _ Julian Blackthorn _?” 

Alec wraps his arms around his torso. When Lily had suggested they practise some Quidditch drills, he’d been under the impression it was for fun. He didn’t think she’d start on him like this. “We don’t know that. Julian needed me for the last game because a Gryffindor hexed his chaser. Besides, he’s not even Captain anymore, I’m pretty sure Jem is. Who knows what’s going to happen this year?”

“Alec.” Lily frowns. “Julian brought you onto the team for the last game of the season, and you _ won _ . You did that. Yes, it was a team effort but _ you _ were _ on _that team.”

“Look,” Magnus lifts his head from his copy of _ ’A Standard Book of Spells’ _. “I have a very bare minimum understanding of this game. I still don’t understand how Will thinks that I’ll be able to match his commentary once he’s gone.”

Magnus’ gaze softens, and he’s staring at Alec like he can see _ through _ him. 

“But I know you, Alec. I know how hard you work, at everything you do, and I know how important Quidditch is to you, how _ passionate _ you are. I am certain that Hufflepuff would not have won that match without your support. I am just as certain that Julian wouldn’t have helped you train, nor looked at you like you were a miracle when you accepted his offer to play, if you weren’t good enough.” 

Alec chews nervously at his bottom lip, curling his fingers around his elbow. “But Julian is gone. Yes, he taught me a lot, and I still can’t believe I got to play a winning game - but that isn’t any indication of what’s going to happen this year.”

“It’s okay to believe in yourself just a little, Alec.” Lily says, knocking her shoulder against Alec’s. “Even if you don’t get on the team this year-”

“Which you will!” Magnus interrupts, as though it’s a given.

Lily nods in his direction, and then turns back to Alec. “Even in the very unlikely situation that you won’t make it to the team, they can’t be that stupid as to not have you as a substitute. And there’s nothing saying you can’t keep practising for the fun of it.”

“Isn’t that the point,” Magnus waves his hand vaguely. “Of all this sports nonsense?”

“Having fun?” Alec smiles despite himself. “Generally yes.”

Magnus shrugs. “Never been my thing.”

Lily frowns. ”Never? Not even muggle sports?”

Magnus shakes his head, something of a shadow falling across his eyes. “Never been a big fan of it. Probably doesn’t help that the older kids at the orphanage used to ‘accidentally’ hit me with the popular ball of that week. Never enough to cause real damage, of course, but definitely enough for a few bruises.”

“Magnus,” Alec’s hands fall to his sides. “I’m - I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

Magnus shrugs, folding the cover of the textbook. “It’s not something that I advertise. I got used to it, learnt how to get out of the road - I’m quite good at dodgeball, ironically, though I don’t particularly enjoy it.”

He laughs, but it’s frail, and his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Magnus,” Alec can’t seem to form anything else. Magnus has been through so much - so much _ bullshit _, but he just brushes it off, like it was all nothing, like it never happened. 

He’s so, so strong, but he acts as though none of it matters. He doesn’t see himself the way Alec does, but not because he doesn’t want to - because he genuinely can’t see what Alec does. 

It breaks Alec’s heart.

“I’m going to check that Elliot hasn’t trapped himself in the chook pen.” Lily says, glancing between the two of them. “Don’t start the drills without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Alec replies, his voice sounding thin to his own ears.

He drops down next to Magnus, a little thrilled at the newfound ease - everything is so carefree here, so removed from fuss and pomposity. It’s a literal and metaphysical breath of fresh air. 

“I’m sorry you went through that.” Alec bumps his shoulder against Magnus’. “I know your childhood was - far from the best, but I never thought-”

“It’s fine.” Magnus shrugs. “Well, it’s not, but it’s in the past. The orphanage is - nothing like it used to be, and I spend most of the year at Hogwarts anyway.”

Alec isn’t sure if Hogwarts is entirely all that better, with Sebastian and all of his personal vendettas, but Magnus has proven that he’s twice as bold and thrice as strong as Sebastian could ever hope to be, and if he thinks so highly of the school, Alec is certainly not going to bring up anything contradicting. 

Magnus tips his head, letting it fall to rest against Alec’s shoulder. “I always used to hear things, about how it could never possibly be that bad, because it’s always going to get better. I had trouble believing it, which has always seemed fair to me - my parents are dead, my family didn’t want me and few at the orphanage really cared enough to give me a second glance if I couldn’t be used as an object of their own sport.”

He doesn’t sound sad, though tears are threatening to brim in Alec’s eyes, just - resigned. As though this is nothing more than facts that he’s long since accepted. 

Magnus sighs, his hair tickling the underside of Alec’s chin. “But then I went to Hogwarts, and I discovered that magic exists, that _ I _ have it. I learnt how to fly, even if I’m not the best at it, and made some amazing friends.” He glances up, his gaze soft but hopeful. “I met you.”

Alec can hardly blink. “I love my siblings, and I love the other guys-” 

He’s reminded, suddenly and somewhat inopportunely, of all the times that Magnus has been there for him; when he snuck into the Hufflepuff common room and brought Alec hot chocolate, refusing to leave even though Alec was putting distance between them; when he came to Alec before the Quidditch game because Alec got cold feet, and Magnus knew he’d regret it - and every little moment in between. 

“You’re the best friend I never thought I’d have,” Alec whispers. 

Magnus smiles, so wide his cheeks flush pink, and then he tucks his head against Alec’s neck, and they just sit there, under a sky bluer than a pixie, with the sun soothingly warm over them. 

* * *

“Won’t see the stars this bright in the city, huh?” 

Alec unfolds the plaid blanket that Lily had let them borrow, spreading it on the curve of a hill only a few metres from the main house. Lily had also stocked them with pumpkin juice and a fresh batch of apple pie which her mother had baked and insisted upon them including.

It’s one of their last nights, before the little farm bubble they find themselves in pops and Hogwarts winds back around, and Magnus had asked Lily if they’d be able to spend a night outside, because the clear sky is not something either Alec nor Magnus are used to. 

“They’re beautiful,” Magnus has his neck craned above him, as though this is the first time he’s ever seen stars.

Alec keeps his smile to himself, plopping down on the blanket, the bag of goods settled beside him - the apple pie smells like something straight out of Hogwarts’ kitchens, which is to say, it smells utterly _ magical _. 

“They’re nothing like this in the city.” Magnus whispers, awestruck. He glances at Alec, eyes sparkling like stars themselves. “Even at Hogwarts, the sky is always shrouded in this mystery but here? Everything is so clear and beautiful.”

Alec’s smile widens. “Yeah, it’s - beautiful.” 

Truthfully, Alec isn’t as enrapt with the stars as Magnus is - they are beautiful, that’s indisputable, but Alec is just glad to see Magnus so happy. He’d spend every night under the stars if it meant Magnus would smile like that. 

“You know, I used to spend hours looking at the stars - what I could of them.” Magnus admits, folding down next to Alec. “I wondered what it was like to be one of them - to be up there. Seems like the perfect view to watch the world spin away.”

“Distant,” Alec admits. 

Magnus nods. “_ Removed _. That’s what I liked about it so much. Whatever was going on here didn’t matter if I could be up there. If I could escape. The Muggles, they have a whole organisation dedicated to space travel - I thought I could do that. Be an astronaut. Make my way to the moon, and just - never come back down.” 

“Astronaut,” Alec repeats, mulling over the word. It doesn’t sound like a bad job. Travelling through space. 

“Then I discovered I had magic.” Magnus shrugs. “It’s a little cooler than being an astronaut. But only a little bit.”

“You’ve found out that you can do anything with the right spell and practice,” Alec frowns. “That _ unicorns _ and other magical creatures actually exist, that most of the fairytales you were told about as a kid are real - and there’s a part of you that would still rather go to the moon?”

Magnus mulls over Alec’s question, then shoots him an exaggerated wink. “I mean, it’s the moon, Alexander. And besides, who said that I can’t do both? Might be easier to go to space as a wizard, anyway.” 

“Never let anyone tell you that your dreams are not achievable.” Alec states. 

Magnus reaches for the bag, opening it to pull out a bottle each of pumpkin juice. “Of course not. If they did, I’d just strive to prove them wrong. Stubborness is a productive trait, you know.”

“I’m not even going to attempt to argue that,” Alec says, taking one of the juices from Magnus, with an added, quieter “thanks”. 

Magnus watches, pensive, as Alec pulls the apple pie from the bag, setting it atop the blanket. “You’ve never wanted to see the stars? To escape?”

“Those are two different things for me.” Alec points out. He turns his gaze upward, to the stars that don’t quite shine as bright as the other ones. “I never had the same attraction towards the stars as you do, but escaping?”

Alec’s hands wring together in his lap before him, his pumpkin juice resting idly near the pie. “Knowing that I was going to Hogwarts once I hit the right age, that was my dream escape. Getting to craft my magic, hone it into a skill worth something, to be around other kids like me - I love my siblings, I do. I’d do anything for them. But being in that house was suffocating.” 

Magnus sighs, and wraps his hand around Alec’s arm - he knows what feeling suffocated is like. “Now you’ve got two-out-of-three siblings at Hogwarts with you, and of course, me.”

Alec lets his head fall against Magnus’ shoulder. “Well, you’re clearly the best part.” He acknowledges, shifting closer to Magnus. “I’ll be sure to tell Isabelle and Jace that.”

“Please do.” 

Alec laughs softly, the sound reverberating through them both. Magnus tucks a smile against the top of Alec’s head. “I suppose there are other good things, to Hogwarts.”

“More than just you, my siblings and I’m presuming our friends?” Magnus can practically see Alec’s grin, even without catching true sight of it. “Do tell.”

“Well,” Magnus thinks back to the last Quidditch game. “There was Julian - must have been nice to see him around all the time.”

“Sure,” Alec clears his throat. “I mean, he’s a really talented Quidditch player and he’s taught me a lot - it’s going to suck that he’s not there anymore.”

“Did you-” Magnus inhales sharply. “Like him? _ Like _ him _ , _I mean.”

  


It’s a daring question to ask - if this was the orphanage, Magnus would be ducking to avoid a punch in the face right about now. Magnus is pretty certain Alec wouldn’t hurt him, but there’s a coil of tension running through his shoulders and he regrets even opening his mouth. 

Alec stills. “Are you asking if I had a crush on him?”

Magnus doesn’t reply, but his silence speaks loud enough. 

Alec sighs, tucking his head closer against Magnus’ shoulder. “I think so. I think I did. I don’t know. I’ve never had a crush before, I don’t know what the signs are, but I mean - I like him. I think he’s a really cool person. He’s nice, and he’s caring, and he always saw the best in me, and supported me from the first day, he’s never been rude, not to anyone-“

Alec’s head tips forward slightly. “I thought I just looked up to him. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe I did have a crush on him. Do? Does it count if he’s not around anymore?”

Magnus squeezes Alec’s upper arm, taking a moment to swallow past his dry throat; there’s a tiny voice piping up from the back of his mind, about feelings he’d pushed aside and whether this means Alec might be the same - whatever that might be. 

He kindly tells that voice to shut up because it’s not the time.

“A crush counts so long as it exists. It doesn’t matter if the person is around, it matters how you feel when you think of them, or when you see them, or - when they talk to you. A crush is how you see it.”

“Then,” Alec sighs. “Yeah. Yes. I guess I do, have a crush on Julian.”

Magnus fights back a good-natured laugh at how annoyed with himself Alec sounds - not, he thinks, because he has a crush, but because he didn’t realise it before Magnus brought it up.

It makes braving the question seem worth it.

“I don’t blame you,” Magnus admits. “He’s pretty cute. His hair is really nice.”

Magnus doesn’t want to delve too deeply into what him thinking that might mean - it’s difficult enough to admit it aloud, and besides, this isn’t supposed to be about him. This is about helping his best friend, about _ being there _ for Alec when Alec needs him.

Alec takes a second too long to reply. “Nice eyes, too.”

Magnus replies around his smile, unable to help himself. “Yes, nice eyes too. I don’t have a crush on him, mind you, but I can see why you would. Not a bad guy to have a first crush on.”

If Alec notices his voice croaking a little on the pronoun, he’s kind enough not to mention it.

Alec tilts his head slightly, to make eye contact with Magnus. “Who was the first person you had a crush on?”

“A muggle,” Magnus whispers exaggeratedly, like it’s a secret, a conspiracy. Like he and Alec are two super spies in an action film franchise, not two teenage wizards trying to figure themselves out. 

Alec elbows Magnus in the side, not enough to bruise but enough to make an impact. ”I’m serious, Magnus.”

“Her name was Nadine.” Magnus admits. “It was only a few months before I found out I was, you know, _ magical _ and everything. She was a few years older, but she was one of the few who actually spoke to me. We weren’t friends at all, but she was nice, and much like Julian she had very nice hair, and - I felt happy, when I saw her around.”

“She sounds nice.” 

Magnus would shrug, if Alec weren’t leaning on him. “She was. But, she’s not at the orphanage anymore, and most of the time neither am I.”

“So you don’t have a crush at the moment?” Alec asks, curiously.

Magnus shakes his head. “Not currently, no. But who knows what the future holds?”

Alec hums. “For you? Something amazing I’m sure.”

Magnus curls his hand around Alec’s elbow, pressing a kiss to the top of Alec’s head. “So long as it includes you, Alexander. _ That _would make it amazing.” 


	2. Newcomers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they return to Hogwarts, a newcomer arrives, and Magnus gets into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 6 months this has taken is entirely my fault, not Nin’s. Apologies! But enjoy!

  
It’s hardly a surprise to Magnus to feel a familiar sense of peace cascade through him when he walks through the enormous oak double-doors. He spills into the entrance hall with Alec and Jace bickering to his left and Raphael, Ragnor and Catarina having a heated discussion about the benefits of bottomless-ink quills, and exhales. 

He’s home.

Ahead, past the throngs of students milling about, shouting across the hall and greeting each other enthusiastically after the long summer break, he can see a long line of nervous-looking first years following Professor McGonagall up the stairs at the back with varying expressions of fear, awe, and excitement. 

“Hey.” Alec nudges him with his elbow. “I’m gonna find Simon and get a good seat at the Hufflepuff table for the feast. I’ll find you afterwards?”

Magnus smiles and him and nods, while simultaneously loathing the enforced house separation at the beginning of the year. It only ever happens at the very beginning and very end of the year, and while Magnus loves a bit of competitive house spirit, he’s also missed his friends over the summer. Even Jace.

“Come on,” Lydia says, appearing at his shoulder with her arm hooked through Lily’s. “We should go too. Otherwise we’ll end up sitting near Sebastian and Camille, and Lily will throw food at them. Which wouldn’t be a good start to the year.”

Lily makes a noise of disagreement in the back of her throat. “I think it would be an excellent start to the year.”

“Of course you do,” Lydia says, rolling her eyes even as her lips quirk with fondness. “Let’s go.”

***

As is always the case, the moment Professor McGonagall finishes her speech, welcoming them, back, warning them away from the Forbidden Forest, and dryly assuring them that they’ve devised evermore mind-numbing detention strategies for any student under the impression that Hogwarts is anything but a school, the entire hall seems to shift, and students migrate to other tables.

Alec finds himself at the Gryffindor table, opposite Magnus and beside Simon, while Jace leans over the table and tries to talk quietly with his mouth full of chocolate cake.

“We’ve got a new student,” Jace whispers, loudly. “In our year. She was homeschooled, which is weird, no?”

Clary rolls her eyes. “Her name is Aline and she seems perfectly nice. Although a little intimidating.”

“She’s probably nervous,” Magnus says. “It can’t be easy, joining a school when everyone’s already made friends.”

Lily groans faintly, and sets her forehead down on the table with a thwack. Everyone turns to stare at her. 

“We’re going to end up adopting her, aren’t we?” She glares at them all. “You’re all too soft-hearted and you love a good stray.”

“We’re all strays,” Magnus points out, looking around at their odd, mismatched group of friends.

“That’s my point, Bane.” Lily sighs. “I hope she can play Quidditch.”

At the mention of Quidditch, Alec looks down the long length of the table. It isn’t difficult to tune into the sound of Will’s voice, and it takes him only a moment to spot him, halfway down the table, with Jem next to him, rolling his eyes in clear exasperation. As Alec had expected, there’s a shining captain’s badge on Jem’s robes, beside the worn prefect’s one.

He’s getting on the team this year. Screw everything else. He made it last year, and even without Julian’s careful guidance, he knows he can do it again. He just has to fly well at tryouts. 

***

Magnus’ first day in lessons starts well, with an introductory session to his first OWL option - arithmancy - but quickly goes downhill, as days are prone to do.

He scowls when he walks into Charms and remembers that they’re doing it with the Ravenclaws this year, not the Hufflepuffs. Much as he loves Cat and Ragnor, he’d much rather lament his difficulties to Alec.

“Nice haircut, Bane,” someone says behind him, and Magnus flashes them a smile, running a hand through the short hair at the back of his head, and up to the longer strands above. 

“Cheers,” he says, and takes a seat beside Ragnor, who appraises him with a raised eyebrow.

“You look different,” Ragnor comments, and, beside him, Catarina rolls her eyes. 

“You look nice,” she agrees, and Magnus grins at them both. 

It’s not a drastic change - a haircut that suits him and a smudge of an eyeliner pencil he’d purchased at Boots on a whim, which, so far, nobody has specifically commented on in the derogatory ways he’d been worried about - but he likes it. 

By the time the lesson ends, he’s managed to singe his eyebrows and he’s sure he smells of smoke, but he’d got it, eventually. Sometimes, though, he wishes they learnt useful spells. Like cleaning. Or fire-extinguishing. If he were writing the curriculum, that would be where he’d start.

Just as he’s leaving, bag slung over one shoulder and wand shoved in the pocket of his robes, he feels breath on the back of his neck. He pauses mid-step, and turns to see Sebastian watching him with narrowed eyes.

“You better watch your back, Bane.”

***

At the end of their first week, Jem announces to the Hufflepuff common room that he’s holding trials that evening, before any of the other teams. There’s an immediate cry of complaints that erupt from every corner.

“Julian always held trials last!” one girl says, eyes wide. “So he could size up the competition!”

“And that’s not fair! You haven’t given us any warning! _Tonight_?”

“Just do it on Monday!”

Jem inhales deeply. Alec watches the proceedings with sharp eyes from where he’s curled in a corner with Simon, Magnus and Jace and Clary having left half an hour ago so they didn’t get caught by curfew. 

It’s obvious that Hufflepuff is feeling Julian’s loss. Everyone loved Julian. And he was good. A fantastic keeper, and a fantastic strategist, and a fantastic captain. And for Jem’s first decision to directly contradict Julian’s tried-and-tested tactics—it’s a risk. And, much as Alec likes Jem, he’s not sure it’s going to pay off. Not in terms of his popularity. At least, not in the short-term.

“No,” Jem says, firmly. “Julian’s not here anymore. I didn’t give you any warning because if you’re on the team, you might not get any warning. You all know that practises can be called and cancelled at the drop of a hat. Games can be moved. Players can get injured. You have to be on top of more than just your game if you’re going to be in my quidditch team.”

“But all the other houses will know who’s on our team before they select theirs,” one of the previous year’s beaters says. “We won’t get a look at the competition.”

“No,” Jem agrees, “but we’re going to start this year as we mean to go on. _As_ the competition.”

Around the room, there are a few grumbles, and few muttered protests, but Alec feels a grin stretch across his face. He has a sneaky suspicion that, given a few months, the rest of his house will appreciate Jem’s style of leadership.

Julian, despite his tough exterior, was tentative, between sudden bursts of decisive, gut-driven spontaneity—like asking Alec to play, with little warning. Jem is careful, and considered, and steadfast, and perhaps exactly the right brand of ballsy that their team needs.

***

It’s cold for September when Alec trudges outside in his quidditch robes, broomstick clutched firmly in one hand. He hadn’t seen Magnus at dinner, so he doesn’t know whether he’s come to watch. He wouldn’t blame him if he’d taken one look at the dreary drizzle and decided to pass.

Will, though, is sitting in the second row of the bleachers, feet propped up on the row in front. He’s clearly freezing, hands curled into fists and shoved against his legs and lips pale, but he’s watching proceedings with sharp eyes.

Jem sets the first, second and third years flying first, without preamble or ceremony, and puts them through basic coordination drills that Alec is confident he could do in his sleep. He repeats the exercise with the older years, and then cuts the group in half, sending one half back to the changing rooms with an encouraging note of sympathy in his voice.

Jem has whittled their selection down to twenty players before he’s even brought out the balls. It’s entirely contrary to what Julian used to do, and Alec can hear people muttering about it when they’re turned away. Will leans forward over the bleachers to say something to a group of fifth years, his smile belying the daggers glinting in his eyes.

“No tackling,” Jem warns them, as he opens the ball chest and picks up the quaffle. “If I see any dirty play, I don’t care how good you are, your chance is over. Understood?”

They all nod diligently, hovering in the air. 

Down below, Alec can see figures entering the bleachers. It’s too dark for him to make out who it is, but he thinks one might be Simon.

“Aren’t you going to ask what we’re trying out for?” a girl asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Jem shrugs. “I wasn’t going to, no. If you think being a seeker is more glamorous so that’s what you’re trying for, but you’d actually be a great beater, I’d like to be able to see that.”

Alec has never really played anything other than a chaser, in a proper team. He’s played keeper and seeker plenty of times at home, but he’s never even held a beater’s bat before: Maryse and Robert had always told them, in no uncertain terms, that they weren’t going to allow children to play with bludgers.

He sees Jem’s lips quirk when Alec whacks the bludger far too hard across the pitch, and he’s relieved when they switch around. He’s not broad enough to be a keeper, yet, but he holds his own when he’s told to take up position as players attempt to score. All of the previous year’s chasers put the quaffle past him with ease, but he manages to save a fair number of the rest—even if he does almost fall off his broom while diving to flick a shot away from the right hand hoop. 

There are twelve of them left on the pitch when Jem releases the snitch, and explains a drill they’re going to go through. At first, Alec doesn’t understand the point - Jem is the Hufflepuff seeker, so it’s not like they need another one - but, as they start, he realises how distracting it is to have a little golden ball fluttering nearby, and the whoosh of Jem’s broom close behind, when they’re trying to run a complex game scenario.

It’s not how Julian did it, but it’s clever. It’s new. And Alec knows as well as anyone that sports teams need fresh blood with fresh ideas every few years to do well.

“Alright!” Jem calls, and Alec turns to see him hovering on his broom with the snitch fluttering in hand. “Touchdown, and I’ll let you know who’s in. If you’re not in, you’re in reserve, and I’m expecting you to attend weekly practises. Not extras, unless you’re called in for a game.”

That gets a few eyebrow-raises, because Julian - and most other captains - didn’t keep specific reserves on the team. He certainly didn’t have them at practises.

When Jem tells Alec that he’s in, Alec feels momentarily numb. Then he grins. He’s still the youngest player on the team, and he knows that he’s far from the best - owing partly to the fact that he’s thirteen, and hasn’t had the chance to bulk out yet - but he’s dedicated. And he’s _in_. 

“I’ll see you all at practise,” Jem says, smiling, and Alec notices that even the players who’ve been told they’re in reserve don’t look too put-out. “Tuesday night, six o’clock. You all did really well.”

***

When Alec gets out of the changing rooms and trudges back across the courtyard, wandtip alight as he peers through the darkness, he sees Magnus waiting with Will, just inside the entrance to the school. 

“Is he nearly done?” Will asks Alec, the moment he spots him. “We’re supposed to be going to the library.”

“He’s talking to one of the girls about the Holyhead Harpies,” Alec says. “_Nox_.”

“It’s almost like Jem thinks our library date is less important.” 

Will is smirking, so it’s obvious that he’s joking. Possibly, he thinks he’s being subtle, but he’s not. Alec is absolutely positive that, were he to venture into the library in the next hour, he wouldn’t find Will and Jem in there. The prefect’s bathroom, though, possibly.

“I’m gonna find him,” Will decides. “Have fun, kiddies. Break rules!”

Magnus is grinning as Will swans off. “He’s brilliant.”

Alec shrugs. “Well, Jem likes him.”

“Oh, shut up, you,” Magnus says, and slings an arm around his shoulders. “I couldn’t hear what Jem was saying from the stands, but I’m taking that look on your face to mean you got a spot.”

“Yeah.” Trying to smother his grin by biting down on his lip is pointless, but he tries anyway. “Yeah, I did.”

“That’s brilliant,” Magnus enthuses, hugging him with one arm. “Now Slytherin just has to crush your team like a bug.”

Alec scoffs, and pokes Magnus in the side as they make their way down the corridor, towards the Hufflepuff common room, because there’ll undoubtedly be food brought in from Hogsmeade in light of the trials. 

“In your dreams, Bane.”

“Oh, I’ve heard much chatter about Jem’s tactical decisions. The other captains think they might have an in.”

“They don’t,” Alec says simply. “We’re gonna win.”

Magnus grins at him. “You know, I could almost get into this quidditch thing. It’s got a certain appeal to it.”

“Oh?” Alec arches an eyebrow, and Magnus hums, but he doesn’t elaborate. Alec decides not to ask. 

When they reach the Hufflepuff common room, most of the newly-elected team - including the reserves - are gathered around the table in front of the fire, which is covered in food. Not, as Alec had expected, brought in from Hogsmeade, but clearly brought up from the kitchens. 

“Alec!” Imasu, the fourth year chaser who Alec had played with last year, waves at him from his spot by the fire. “And Magnus!”

Alec glances over at Magnus as they make their way over. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“We don’t,” Imasu says, shifting over to give them space on the floor—the sofas are all taken by the rest of the team. Perks of being in the older years, Alec supposes. “Only in passing.”

He smiles at Magnus. Alec arches an eyebrow at the hesitant flicker in Magnus’ expression, but he doesn’t ask. Frankly, he’s not sure he wants to know.

(That, of course, is a lie. He wants to know. But he’s not going to ask in front of Imasu.)

“Peppermint toad?” one of the sixth year beaters offers, holding out the box to Alec and Magnus.

Alec takes one, but Magnus shakes his head, smiling wryly. “Not a fan. Thanks, though.”

The beater rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Slytherins. Have a chocolate frog before they try to jump out of the common room and Filch gets on our case.”

While Magnus is munching on chocolate, and Alec is wondering at what exactly the glances Imasu keeps sneaking his best friend mean, the door opens, and Jem comes through, clasping Will’s hand. 

A cheer goes up from the team, and there are some mutters sound from where a small group of rejects have gathered to sulk in a corner. Jem’s eyes linger on the crushed hopefuls in the corner; the smile on his face turns strained. Will leans in and murmurs something in his ear, and it softens again. Another whisper, and Jem rolls his eyes, but turns his head back to kiss Will’s cheek.

Beside him, Alec feels Magnus shift. He glances over, and finds Magnus watching Will and Jem with an odd expression twisting at his lips. 

“Are you okay?”

Magnus nods. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Alec frowns at him. “Are you sure? You don’t look fine.”

“It’s nothing,” Magnus says. 

He exhales, and goes to lean into Alec. Without thought, Alec turns to meet him, as he has done a million times before, but Magnus’ head never makes contact with his shoulder. Instead, he aborts halfway, and jerks upright, studiously avoiding Alec’s gaze. 

Alec’s brow furrows.

“I think I’m gonna go,” Magnus says, quietly. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

Magnus smiles at him, but it looks a little strained. “You did really well, Alexander.”

He disappears before Alec can thank him. When Alec finds the sense of mind to turn away from the door swinging shut with a finality that stings, he realises that he’s not the only one who watched Magnus’ exit. Imasu, too, is following the path of Magnus’ exit with his eyes, looking thoughtful.

***

Magnus feels _weird_. 

He’s not sure exactly what it is. But there’s something akin to anxiety rolling in his gut, and he just wants to go to bed. Sitting in the middle of patriotic Hufflepuffs isn’t what he fancies for his evening, no matter how proud he is of Alec for getting into the quidditch team. 

He especially doesn’t want to watch Will and Jem. Nobody at Hogwarts seems to bat an eyelid—not even people like Alec, who’ve grown up in households that are clearly rather traditional. The only person he’s heard make a snide comment is Sebastian, and Sebastian would pick on anything different about anybody just because he can.

He can’t imagine the other teenagers - especially the boys - at April’s orphanage would be so disinterested.

“Hey! Magnus!”

For a moment, Magnus thinks it must be Alec, even though it’s not Alec’s voice. Who else would be calling to him from across the corridor, an hour before curfew? But when he turns, it’s Imasu who’s standing on one of the staircases nearby as it moves to join with the corridor Magnus is in. 

Magnus remains silent as Imasu jogs down the steps and stops a few feet away. 

“You forgot this,” Imasu says, holding out the green and silver scarf Magnus had been wearing while he was sitting with Will on the bleachers, freezing his arse off despite it only being September. 

Magnus reaches out a hand. “Oh. Thank you. You didn’t have to run after me. Alec could have given it to me tomorrow.”

Imasu shrugged. “It’s no trouble. Besides, you didn’t look very happy when you left.”

Feeling abruptly defensive, Magnus folds his arms across his chest and arches an eyebrow. “I’m fine. What does it matter to you, anyway? We barely know each other.”

“True,” Imasu agrees. “But I think we’re the same.”

“Excuse me?” Magnus stares at him and folds his arms across his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“You were looking at Will and Jem. And then you were decidedly _not_ looking at Will and Jem. And then you got weird about leaning against Alec.”

Magnus shifts in place, glancing down the corridor and then back to Imasu. He clutches at his scarf. “So?”

“Come on, Magnus. I’m trying to make this easy for you.” 

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” Magnus says dismissively. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait!” Imasu grabs his arm. He lets go when Magnus glares at him. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. But I’ve been there, you know?” He lets out a laugh that sounds a little self-deprecating, and fiddles with the strand of his hair that’s highlighted in bright blue. “Actually, I’m still there, a bit.”

“Okay. But I– I’m sorry, I just want to go to bed.”

“Yeah.” Imasu shoots him a faint smile. “Yeah, I understand. Goodnight, Magnus.”

***

Magnus is late to Defence Against the Dark Arts in the morning. 

Magnus is never late to anything. 

At the front of the classroom, Professor Aldertree is tapping his wand against a glass tank containing what Alec thinks might be a grindylow. He remembers his mother spotting one in a public lake while they were on holiday, once, and his father calling in what had seemed to six-year-old Alec like half the Ministry to deal with the problem without alerting the muggles. 

“Hi,” says a breathless voice that Alec doesn’t recognise. “Sorry, can I sit here?”

Alec glances over to see a pretty, dark-haired girl wearing a red and gold tie, clutching at the strap of her book bag. 

Magnus must be sick. There’s no other reason he’d be late.

“Yeah, of course,” Alec says, and kicks out the stool beside him in emphasis. 

“Thank you.” She slides into the seat and begins pulling out her things with a slightly nervous air. “I’m Aline, by the way.”

Of course. Gryffindor’s new girl. Alec had almost forgotten about Jace mentioning her at the start of term feast.

“Alec,” Alec tells her, and they exchange a brief smile, before Aldertree calls the class to attention.

The creature does turn out to be a grindylow, and Alec feels slightly smug when he correctly identifies it and earns Hufflepuff ten house points. From the desk in front of him, where Simon is sitting beside Jace, Simon turns around to give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Alec rolls his eyes rather than admit that he’s pleased. 

Unlike during their last two years of lessons with Aldertree, during which he would spend a good portion of the lesson going through theory in excruciating detail, Aldertree sets them a practical task after only a few minutes of explanation. 

“Can we try on the grindylow?” Jace asks of the Ebublio jinx, which, Aldertree informs them, is less a jinx and more a charm, but, nonetheless, an effective defence against a grindylow. 

“Yes,” Aldertree says, “once you can do it on the fish.”

He waves his wand in a rather ostentatious fashion, and a glass tank containing a tiny guppy and some kind of grey fish that’s about six inches long with eerily beady eyes appears on each desk.

“You’ve got forty minutes. Try not to kill any fish.”

Aline looks at Alec in mild alarm, and Alec shrugs at her. Aldertree doesn’t particularly care about collateral damage in his lessons. 

“Fuck,” Aline says, when her first attempt at the jinx causes water to shoot up and splash across the desk. 

Alec peers down at the tank, and points his wand at it. “Aguamenti.”

Aline raises her eyebrows as the tank refills. “Impressive.”

“Ah.” Alec scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Charms is my favourite subject. Catch me in a Potions lesson, you won’t be saying that.”

“We’re in a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, Mr Lightwood, so please stay on task!” Aldertree barks from across the classroom. When he turns away, Aline pulls a face at his back, and Alec has to cover his mouth to stifle a snigger. 

He and Aline both manage the jinx around both fish by the end of the lesson, but Aldertree calls the class to attention before either of them can have a chance to try it on the grindylow. Alec can’t help but be a little disappointed.

“I want ten inches on defences against grindylows for Thursday. Class dismissed.”

Aline turns to Alec as they pack up, while Aldertree taps the grindylow tank with his wand. “Well, he’s a bundle of laughs.”

***

Magnus is in the middle of wondering whether it would be too much effort to throw himself off the Astronomy tower rather than lay in the hospital wing for another minute when he hears Alec’s voice in Madam Pomfrey’s office. 

“Please? I won’t stay long. I have class in twenty minutes anyway.”

“Very well,” Madam Pomfrey says, sounding nearly as disapproving as she had when Magnus and Sebastian had walked in the previous night. “Close the curtain.”

She must point Alec to the correct bed, because Alec pulls the curtain aside a moment later, and peers around with a tentative expression on his face. He’s holding a box of something that Magnus sincerely hopes is edible. And preferably chocolate-based.

“Hi,” Alec says, when their eyes meet.

“Hi,” Magnus echoes.

Alec sets the box down on the table at the end of Magnus’ bed, and then sits gingerly at his feet. “Lily and Lydia told me what happened. Or, what they knew of what happened.”

Magnus winces as he pulls himself up straighter against the pillows, and drops his gaze to his knees. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Which bit?” Alec asks. “Hitting Sebastian, or him hitting you back?”

“He looked much worse than me,” Magnus muttered, and, when he chanced a glance up, he caught the fleeting flash of a grin on Alec’s face. “No, I meant hitting him in the first place.”

Alec shrugs carefully. “Sounds like he deserved it, to me. Only dicks taunt first years. You were right to call him out, and I don’t blame you for snapping when he started calling you names.”

“I’ve got detention.”

“I’d be surprised if you hadn’t.” Alec sets a hand on his leg beneath the blanket. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can.”

“Why now? He’s called you vile things before. What changed?”

Magnus picks at a loose thread in an effort to avoid Alec’s gaze. In truth, when he’d walked in on Sebastian mocking two first years in the common room right after that bizarre, crap conversation with Imasu, he’d been at the end of his tether. He’d felt guilty about jerking away from Alec just because he was having a minor sexuality crisis, and he’d been exhausted from a busy first week back at school, and, frankly, he’d been a little bit angry. At the world. 

In the present, Magnus lifts one shoulder and says, “I was just in a bad mood. Final straw, and all that.”

Alec hums. “Fair enough. How does your face feel?”

“Sore,” Magnus admits. “But not that bad. Madam Pomfrey gave us some potion that tasted like dead frogs.”

A laugh escapes Alec, and he says, “You’ve got a lot of experience with the flavour of dead frogs, have you?”

“I have now.” Magnus wrinkles his nose, and Alec laughs again. Magnus glares at him. “Rude. I got punched in the face and fed poison by Madam Pomfrey. You’re not supposed to be laughing at me.”

“Chocolate cauldron?” Alec says, much to Magnus’ chagrin, reaching for the box he brought with him.

Magnus snatches the box out of his hand and rips the top off. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Is Sebastian in here somewhere?” Alec asks, shamelessly dipping his hand into the box to steal Magnus’ chocolate. “Merlin, those things are good.”

“No. Madam Pomfrey called Aldertree, because he’s our head of house, and Aldertree sent an owl to Sebastian’s dad, who insisted on taking him somewhere for treatment. He’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Magnus smiles, but, even to him, it feels fragile. “Benefits of not having any parents: Aldertree couldn’t exactly owl anyone to discipline me. So he just gave me detention.”

Alec doesn’t comment on Magnus’ attempt at bravado, but he does shift a little closer on the bed, so their knees are pressed together through the thin blanket. “Did Sebastian not get detention?” 

“Oh, no, he did. And we have to serve it together.”

“_Fun_,” Alec says sarcastically. “Any idea what you’re doing?”

“Cleaning first year cauldrons.”

Alec’s face scrunches up adorably, and Magnus bites his lip to stop himself smiling. “Great. I hope these first years are better at Potions than I was.”

“Me too,” Magnus says, and Alec looks outraged for a moment, before, suddenly, they’re both dissolving into fits of giggles.

Magnus’ cheeks are aching and he can’t breathe from how hard he’s laughing when Madame Pomfrey wrenches the curtain open and fixes them both with an icy look. Alec sobers first; he glances sheepishly at Magnus, and Magnus snorts. They have to look away from each other.

“Haven’t you got a lesson, Mr Lightwood?” is all she says.

“Uh, yes. Yeah. Sorry.” Alec scrabbles on the floor for his bag. “Will you be at dinner?”

Magnus looks hopefully at Madame Pomfrey. “Yes?”

She tuts at him, but he sees one corner of her mouth lift. “We’ll see.”

“Cool.” Alec grins at Magnus. “See you later. Hope your face feels better.”

“See you later,” Magnus echoes, unable to do anything but smile back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the best to everyone - hope you’re all doing okay in the current coronavirus situation! (Perfect time to rewatch Harry Potter, if you ask me...)
> 
> Much love <3


	3. Flowers or Cologne?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus makes a friend and Alec makes ... an acquaintance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> between you and me ... let's pretend it hasn't been months since the last update ... happy reading!!

Sebastian walks into the Great Hall for breakfast the next day with the pout of a puppy which had not so much been hurt, but knew that if it pretended such was the case, it would get an extra helping of treats. In this instance, the treats happen to be the sympathy of his posse, who flock around him like chattering seagulls. 

“He actually disgusts me.” Lily states, putting her fork down. “I can’t even finish my pancakes. It should be a crime to keep people from stomaching their breakfast because your presence is so vile.”

Jace reaches across the table, scooping her plate up and stacking it on top of his own. “I don’t know why you give him that much power.”

“Not everybody has a bin for a stomach, Jace.” Alec’s nose scrunches with vaguely amused disgust. “Although, I probably would have thrown it at him instead.”

Magnus traces his spoon around the edge of his bowl. “That would land you in detention with me,” he points out. “I doubt Jem would be too happy about that.”

Alec nudges his elbow. “Might be more fun with some company, though.”

“I’ll have the delightful company of potion residue,” Magnus smiles, but it’s thin, and wry around the edges. “You’ve got to keep a clean slate, this year. Can’t have you being taken off the Quidditch team before you’ve had the chance to show everybody what you’re really capable of.”

Alec pouts, slightly, his bottom lip jutting out. Magnus splits his blueberry muffin, offering half to Alec, an unspoken conversation passing between them through a single look. 

“I hate this,” Alec mumbles, tearing out a squashed blueberry from inside the muffin. “I hate that you have detention, I hate that Sebastian can basically do whatever he wants without any consequences - we’re in our third year, and I can’t even celebrate getting onto the Quidditch team because the one person I really want to celebrate with has to clean  _ gunk  _ out of cauldrons.”

“Ah,” Jace proclaims. “The sweet reminder that you’ll always play second fiddle in the eyes of your own brother-”

Alec discreetly kicks back, knocking Jace’s ankle with his heel. Magnus refrains from laughing, though a soft grin settles at the corner of his mouth.

“We can celebrate after tea. You, me-” Magnus leans in, his voice dropping so only Alec can hear. “And the rest of the poor sods stuck in the library.”

Alec grins, unwittingly charmed by Magnus’ ridiculousness. “I can’t imagine anything I’d like to do more.”

“He’s excited about a study date,” Jace grumbles. Lily rolls her eyes, though at whom, it’s unclear. 

Across the hall, Sebastian laughs, shrill and obnoxious. Alec roughly tears his muffin piece in half. 

Magnus gently covers Alec’s hand with his own, squeezing tightly. “He’s not worth the waste of your energy.”

Alec’s shoulders sag, and he leans into Magnus’ side. “I can’t help it. He’s a stain.”

“I know. And he’ll be reunited with his kind in detention, trust me.”

* * *

It only took twenty seconds for Sebastian to whip out some  _ bullshit _ letter from his father, thereby excusing him from detention. Magnus is admittedly a little curious as to what was in the letter, given how Professor Aldertree had gone positively green as he’d read it, but his curiosity is far outweighed by his frustration. 

Sebastian is the reason he’s even here, and now the little bastard is skipping out on his daddy’s coattails with a smug grin Magnus is itching to wipe off his stupid face. 

“Bane. Penhallow. These cauldron’s won’t exactly clean themselves.” 

Professor Aldertree sweeps a critical eye across the classroom, before retreating back into his office. Aline Penhalow, Gryffindor’s newest transfer, rolls her eyes as soon as he’s left. 

“The Scouring spell was literally invented to make cleaning easier.” Aline tilts the cauldron in front of her down, the bubbling green slick stuck to the inside emitting a bitter stench that burns the inside of Magnus’ nose. “How are we supposed to learn spells if we aren’t even allowed to put them into practice?”

Magnus bends down, peering into his own allotted cauldron, grey sludge caked onto the inside like cement. “I think that would rather defeat the purpose, which is to punish us.” He tilts his head, peering sideways at Aline. “Which reminds me, why are you in here? Did you punch Sebastian too?”

Aline shakes her head, folding her arms across her chest. “Unfortunately not. You’re not the first one to want to, though, just one of the few who went through with it.”

Magnus reaches for the offensively bright yellow gloves Professor Aldertree had left them with, already regretting it - or rather being caught. It’s not like Sebastian hadn’t deserved it. 

“You sound as though you’re speaking from experience.”

Aline frowns, her left hand squeezing her forearm. “You could say that. His ... mum is the younger sister of my dad.” 

It takes a few seconds for Magnus’ brain to wrap around what she’s saying, during which Aline pulls on her own gloves and stares resolutely at the inside of the cauldron, almost as though hoping to clean the inside by sheer force of will. 

“He’s your cousin?”

Aline nods. “Did you ever hear that saying,  _ you can’t choose your family _ ?” 

“Yeah.” Not that Magnus ever had the chance. 

“Well, if you could, I definitely wouldn’t have chosen him.” Aline scowls, tiny lines creasing her forehead. “Sebastian has always been horrible, since I’ve known him. Slimy and stuck-up, never had to ask for anything, or say thank you, it was always just  _ given _ to him, just like that. He walks around as though the world has been carved out just for him, and anybody who doesn’t immediately bow to his attention is, is-”

“No more than the sludge caked to these cauldrons.” Magnus flexes his hand, the glove squeaking with the movement. 

Aline raises an eyebrow, before whispering: “Exactly.” She reaches for one of the metal scourers that Professor Aldertree had left, gripping it tightly above the lip of the cauldron. “I’m glad to be at Hogwarts. I think … I hope that I’ll learn a lot here, but I’m - I’m glad I was homeschooled, at the start.”

Magnus shrugs. “I didn’t even know Hogwarts existed before I got my letter.”

“Are you muggle-born?” Aline asks, though her tone contains only a gentle curiosity. 

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me, but - I don’t really see why it matters. I didn’t even know my parents, so whether they had  _ magical blood _ or not is kind of irrelevant to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Aline frowns. “I can’t imagine what that must be like … I love my parents. This is the first time I’ve been away from them, ever, and it’s been really hard, but … it can’t be as hard as not having them at all.” 

Magnus runs the scourer along the rim of the cauldron. “I don’t think one is worse than the other, I think it’s just - perspective. I’ve never known my parents, so I don’t know what it's like to miss them … what right do I have to claim that I have things worse? If you miss your parents, then you miss them. Nobody can tell you that’s not a big deal.”

Aline scrunches up her nose. “Given that I got detention within my first week, you’d think I’d have quite an unimpressed opinion of this place … but I get the feeling I’m really going to get along with you, and I like that. Being homeschooled, and all, I’ve never really had what you’d call-” Aline air quotes:  _ “Friends.” _

“That’s the funny thing about this school.” Magnus turns his head away from the cauldron - turns out, scrubbing at caked-in gunk tends to let out the smell inside, and it’s not one he’s all that fond of. 

“I never really had friends before, either, and now … I have more than I could have ever thought possible. And a best friend, on top of all that, who - I would be lost without. I’d never tell him, lest it go to his head or anything … Hogwarts is the best thing that has ever happened to me, for so many reasons, but meeting Alec changed my life.” 

“I hope I can find someone like that,” Aline smiles, the corners a little sharp. “Someone who means the world to me, like Alec does for you.”

Magnus smiles in kind. “I think you will. Hogwarts is, after all, a  _ magical _ place.”

“Ha, ha.” Aline drawls sarcastically. 

Magnus good-naturedly pokes his tongue-out. “You never did say what landed you in detention…”

Aline grins, and Magnus is reminded inexplicably of a great white shark he’d seen on a school trip to an aquarium. “Professor Aldertree told me that I was lucky to have Sebastian as a cousin, and that I should learn to be more like him.”

Magnus chokes a little on the air in his throat. Aline’s grin grows sharper.

“So, I told him that he should learn to keep his big head out of other people’s business.”

* * *

Jem has a habit of calling for Quidditch practice mere hours before he intends for it to be held, a far cry from the few days’ notice that Julian would spread news of. 

Alec personally thinks that it’s nice to have a change of pace, to detour from the old ways and explore something new. Of course, he wants Hufflepuff to win the Cup again this year, but there’s no guarantee that what worked before will work again. Maybe shaking things up a bit is a good thing. 

Jem certainly seems to think so - and Will, too, although that could just be because one is practically never seen without the other. 

It’s sweet how attached they are: Jem has taken to wearing Will’s beanie, the Gryffindor red stark against his silver hair, whilst these days it’s practically a miracle to see Will  _ without _ Jem’s Hufflepuff scarf around his neck. ‘Tokens of their affection’, Magnus calls it, with a teasing glint in his eyes as he pokes Alec’s ribs, as though it’s nothing more than an inside joke. 

It baffles Alec, a little, how at ease Magnus is with the whole thing. Magnus has always been a carefree kind of person, but the only other relationship that Alec has seen succeed is Julian and Emma, and they’re gone, out into the real world - they were different, special, they had their own special kind of magic about them, and Jem and Will do too, but it’s … different. It  _ feels _ different. 

Alec’s parents don’t speak to each other, and on the rare occasions where they must, it’s forced and overly polite, like strangers. They used to fight, before Jace, and long before Max was born, but now it’s all anger trapped behind tight smiles and terms of endearment forced out from between gritted teeth. He can’t even remember the last time he saw them smile at each other. 

Julian and Emma, they were the golden couple” Quidditch captains, prefects, they’d won the hearts of the entire school early on, and had held onto them ever since. There was a sense of grief once they’d graduated, a great loss on Hogwarts part for everything that had been, and all that would no longer be. 

Jem and Will had been best friends, thick as thieves, more like the Weasley twins of their generation, until Hufflepuff won the cup, and then - it was like a switch, and suddenly they were  _ Jem&Will _ , a couple, and it was all so new … it still is, to Alec, and it has nothing to do with him. 

He’s an outsider, an observer, and what he thinks or feels has absolutely nothing to do with their relationship, nor should it - but when he looks at Jem and Will, their hands linked, or their foreheads pressed together as though they can’t possibly get any closer but can’t help trying … something unfamiliar in him aches, like a stitch behind his ribs after he’s been winded by a Bludger during practice. 

It’s like when Isabelle and Jace first started getting close, holding mock-duels in the backyard and sliding down the bannister with their arms outstretched claiming to be owls on their way to delivering important letters to the Ministry - their parents had been gone all day, and Isabelle and Jace had taken it upon themselves to provide their own entertainment. Alec had thought their ideas silly, and he’d never felt like he was missing out for not joining in their games, but he had felt … bitter, almost, that they were spending so much time together, getting so close. 

He’d never had a best friend before Magnus, and back then, he’d thought that he never would. 

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s just that he can see his friendship with Magnus reflected in that of Will and Jem … he doesn’t actually think Magnus will ever stop being his friend, but he can’t help but worry about it, sometimes. They did start out hating each other after all. 

Will and Jem are sweet, and seeing them in love is … well, it’s kind of nice, but what if they don’t last? Alec’s parents met at Hogwarts too. 

It’s better to stay away from love, like that, he thinks. Safer, that way. Can’t exactly have your heart broken if you never give it away in the first place. 

* * *

“So how are you finding Hogwarts?” 

The question is accompanied by the bobbing of dark hair and a smile as kind as it is genuine, if a little unexpected. There’s a lot about Isabelle Lightwood that could fall under such categories, however, as Aline is quickly learning, and it’s a nice surprise, to learn that not everyone is truly as they might be expected. 

Not that Aline thinks it’s fair to judge anyone before they’re known, but sometimes, it happens. Especially when you go from being taught spells in the comfort of your own kitchen to trying to scale the moving staircases of Hogwarts without getting lost, or worse,  _ late  _ to wherever you’re trying to be.

“Busy.” Aline replies, gripping her books tighter when a fifth-year (she assumes, given their height) Ravenclaw hurries past, head tucked between the wrinkled pages of an old textbook. 

Isabelle gently takes Aline’s elbow, guiding her around a first-year Slytherin with unimaginable fear in their eyes. Aline can relate. 

“The halls aren’t too bad, once you figure them out, and  _ they _ figure  _ you _ out.” Isabelle explains, glancing around quickly before leading Aline towards a staircase only just sliding in front of them. 

“I’ve heard a lot of things about Hogwarts,” Aline murmurs, leaning forward so that her weight doesn’t topple her backwards. “Yet, somehow, nothing anybody said even comes close to measuring up with the real thing.”

Isabelle shakes her head, fondly. “It never does. I remember when Alec and Jace came home during their first year, it was like trying to catch a train as it hopped between forty seperate tracks. I didn’t think it was possible, for this picture of Hogwarts that they’d painted, so bright and magical, to actually be real. I thought for sure that they were exaggerating things, Jace especially, he’s always been dramatic.”

Isabelle pauses, waiting for the staircase to align with a landing before moving forward, pulling Aline with her. It was all that Aline could do to not fall behind.

“Turns out, not even Jace could exaggerate that much.”

“Does it ever … stop, amazing you?” Aline asks, falling into step with Isabelle without really noticing, Isabelle’s hand snaking around to loop through the crook of her elbow. “I’m kinda caught between wonderment and absolute terror, hmm,  _ most  _ hours of the day.”

Isabelle laughs, a gentle sound that feels like a hand, extending an invitation to Aline to join in, and lightly, beneath her breath if only for a second, she does. 

“I think there’s a healthy balance to be found between the two. If I ever find it, I’ll let you know.” 

A bigger laugh, this time, bubbles up inside Aline’s throat. It’s been a while since she’s laughed like this, so carefree, and it aches in the way that missing home always does, but there’s a thread of hope in the middle that she’ll be able to find a new home here, with these … friends, she’s slowly making, and it’s one that she grips onto with tight fists. 

“Thank you, for the help and reassurance. I feel like I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m here at all.”

Isabelle squeezes Aline’s arm. “It takes some time. I’ve been waiting to go here since I was a baby, it feels like, and after hearing all of my brothers’ stories, I thought I would go crazy if I  _ didn’t _ hurry up and get here. In that sense, it was easy for me.”

Isabelle shrugs. “It’s not the same for everyone. I know that Alec had a hard time of it, adjusting to being here, and being in Hufflepuff - I’m sure you can imagine how our parents, the infamous Lightwood monarchs reacted - but somewhere between his first day and his last, he really … found his place.”

Aline recalls what Magnus had said in detention, about how meeting Alec had changed his life. 

“Do you think Magnus had a part in that?” She asks, hesitantly. “He mentioned something in detention about Alec being important to him, and I - well, I’ve never had a friend like that before…”

“I’m not sure that anybody has a friendship quite like theirs.” Isabelle admits, the corner of her mouth tugging up. 

“They practically inhabit their own world most of the time. Becoming friends with Magnus definitely helped Alec, I’ve never seen him as happy as when they’re together … not because he’s unhappy a lot, he’s just always been very quiet, sort of reserved - not around Jace, and myself, but everyone else. Magnus brings out a different side of him, one I’m not sure anyone else could.”

“It must be nice,” Aline comments, idly. 

“I can’t promise to attach myself at your hip the way Alec and Magnus have,” Isabelle says, “but I can promise that you do have a friend in me, and I think it’s safe to say the rest of us. There’s quite an … adoption process going on, the group brought me in when I came, and I have a feeling they’ll do the same with you.”

“Like a … little, Hogwarts family.” 

Isabelle grins. “Exactly.”

* * *

It’s hard to miss Imasu. 

Between the bright blue ends of his hair, his constant smirk and the way he seamlessly glides into a room, or a conversation, as though he’d always been there and it has been simply the fault of others for not noticing - Imasu makes himself known. 

Not that it’s a bad thing, his confidence, it can just be a little obnoxious, that’s all. Alec just doesn’t like that Imasu has to insert himself into everything, especially now that he’s gotten this weird obsession with Magnus … whatever that’s about.

It’s a little unnerving, is all. He’s a  _ fourth _ year, what does he want with Magnus? Alec would have thought he’d have his own friends to bother. 

Apparently not, if the way his leaning against the stone wall opposite the potions class is any indication. Alec had come down to meet up with Magnus for their trip to the library, a daily occurence they’d kept up for almost two weeks now. Even when Magnus has plans, Imasu has to … just, turn up and get in the way. 

“Imasu.” Alec is sure he’s scowling, can practically hear Magnus’ chiding tone echoing in his mind, but he can’t help it. He only has one best friend, and he’s not about to let someone else sneak in and steal him away. 

He shakes his head, trying to school his features into a more neutral expression. 

“Professor Aldertree is probably in his office.” He adds, because it sounds polite, in theory, and whether he likes it or not, Imasu isn’t actually doing anything wrong. 

Imasu smiles, a slow and lazy thing that pricks the back of Alec’s neck. “Actually,” he drawls in a low voice. “I was hoping to speak to you. I know that Magnus has detention down here, so I thought this was the best place to catch you.”

“How do you know-”

Imasu waves an idle hand, pushing off the wall effortlessly. “He mentioned it to me. What he didn’t mention, however, was much about himself … hence, why I’ve come to you. I doubt there’s anyone who knows Magnus as well as you.”

A thrill shoots down Alec’s spine, but he stamps it down. “Why do you want to know about Magnus?”

Imasu shrugs, running a hand over his hair as though checking it’s in place. “I’m curious about him, I guess. There’s no one quite like him, you know?”

Of course Alec knows. He’s Magnus’ best friend. He knows better than anyone how special Magnus is. 

“That doesn’t explain why you care.”

Imasu’s cheeks flush, a light pink that could be from the chill of the dungeons - though, Alec has a feeling it’s  _ not _ . “He’s interesting. He has an energy about him that intrigues me, I guess.”

Alec folds his arms across his chest, hoping the lines creasing his forehead spell out  _ obviously, I know that _ enough that he doesn’t have to speak it aloud. 

“I don’t want to talk to him about … this, before I’ve mentioned it to you, in case I’ve gotten something wrong. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or anything.”

Alec is feeling pretty uncomfortable himself, but he isn’t really Imasu’s focus, so that doesn’t matter. 

“Well, what do you want to know? His favourite colour, what he wants to be when he grows up-” 

“Is he a … flowers, or a cologne guy?”

Alec just stares. Imasu looks earnest, waiting patiently for Alec’s answer, which would be fine if Alec had one to give him. 

“He doesn’t wear cologne.” He replies, still trying to unpack Imasu’s question. “And he has a … complicated, relationship with flowers.” 

Imasu shakes his head, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth into a wry smile. Alec feels like he’s missed something, like the butt of a bad joke, but he’s not exactly going to ask Imasu to explain it. 

“Nevermind. That’s not,  _ entirely  _ what I was asking, but thanks anyway, Alec. I hope you and Magnus both enjoy your afternoon.”

Within a few sweeping steps, he’s gone, leaving Alec with the frayed ends of a conversation he’s still trying to keep up with. 

“Flowers or cologne?” Alec murmurs to himself. “What kind of a question  _ is that _ ?”

* * *

“Professor Garroway shares an office with Professor Aldertree?”

Magnus nods, leaning closer across the library table where he and Alec are huddled - their intention had been to study, and they’re both still dedicated to the task at hand, but there are some things that take higher priority.

Besides, it’s nice. Magnus feels like he hasn’t seen Alec in  _ forever _ , and as ridiculous as it would sound if he dared to say it aloud … he’s missed Alec. He doesn’t like spending so much time away from him but between Quidditch practice and Magnus’ detention, the only time they get together with just the two of them is in the library. 

“I got a sneak in, when I went to let Professor Aldertree know that the cauldron’s were done. Usually he hovers around in the final few minutes, just making sure that we’re not cheating or something, but he didn’t today, and when I knocked on his office door  _ Professor Garroway  _ answered.”

Alec’s eyes are wide, his grin sharp. “Wow.”

“I know. Professor Aldertree wasn’t there, apparently he’d ‘stepped out for a moment’.” Magnus shrugs. “His desk was freakishly clean, though. Not even a speck of dust, all he had on it was a few books, ink pot and quill, and a blank roll of parchment. Nothing personal, not even a demonstrative nixie figurine.”

Alec raises an eyebrow, sceptically. “Did you expect him to have a nixie figurine?” 

“It’s a little unrealistic for him to have a real one, now, Alexander.” Magnus sticks his tongue out at Alec to further accentuate his point. 

Alec rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide his own grin. “I’m just impressed you know what a nixie is.”

Magnus kicks at Alec’s foot beneath the table, but Alec’s quicker, and Magnus ends up knocking the edge of the table leg instead. He laughs, despite his near-miss, and within seconds Alec is joining in, the two of them cackling away without a care. 

He’s missed this most of all, Magnus thinks. The ease he feels around Alec, the joy that’s always bubbling beneath the surface, the way it always feels like they’re floating around in their own little world, where it’s just the two of them and no one else, no worries or cares or … Sebastians. 

“If you’re not careful, we’ll get kicked out.” Alec mutters, even as he leans closer, an almost daring glint in his eyes. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Magnus quips back. It had only happened once, their voices too loud for the serenity the librarians preferred to keep, but it’s a moment that feels relevant. 

“That was your fault!” Alec protests, indignant. “I told you to shut up, and you kept insisting that Rictusempra sounds like a disease!”

Magnus rolls his shoulders back with a huff. “Because it does.” 

“I’m not having this argument again,” Alec declares, shaking his head. “We’ll never get these potions equations done, otherwise, and you’ve still got a sheet of charms to go over.”

“Ugh,” Magnus slumps against his seat, covering his face with his hands. “Don’t remind me.”

“We’ll do it together.” Alec proposes. “Like always. And you’ll be fine, like always.”

“Because you’re here to help me,” Magnus mumbles into his hands. “I couldn’t do this without you. I definitely wouldn’t pass the class without you.”

Alec reaches over, gently pulling Magnus’ hands from his face. “Yes, you would,” He states, squeezing Magnus’ hands between his own. “You’re brilliant, Magnus. Just because charms aren’t your strong suit, doesn’t mean that you’re incapable of understanding them. Just means that not even you, oh great wizard Magnus Bane, can be perfect at everything.”

Alec quirks an eyebrow, feigning thought. “Most things,” he muses. “Not all.” 

“I’m not perfect.” Magnus mutters. He can think of a few fitting terms, but perfect is far from being one of them.

“Exactly.” Alec doesn’t budge. “You’re almost perfect. Leaves a little faith for the rest of us.”

He squeezes Magnus’ hands, then lets go, turning to the parchment he’d been focusing on before they’d gotten distracted. His eyebrows scrunch together, and Magnus can’t help the tiny laugh that slips out, even at Alec’s responding glare.

“Here, we’ll go through it together.” He winks, to ease the tension building in Alec’s shoulders, and because he’s always been amused by the way Alec shifts under such attention, as though he hadn’t been expecting it. 

It used to make him sad, the thought that Alec isn’t used to people wanting to joke around with him, but Magnus has long since made it his mission to show Alec just how much fun he is to be around, and it doesn’t send a very good message if Magnus is telling Alec that he’s fun without looking like he’s actually having any. 

Alec is one of the most fun people Magnus has ever had the joy of being around. If he doesn’t believe that himself, then it’s just up to Magnus to prove it to him. 

* * *

Alec is flicking through his copy of _The_ _Standard Book of Spells_ when he sees it. 

A scrap of parchment, likely torn off the end of someone’s roll, ink running in scrawl across the length of it as though the person had been in a hurry when they wrote it, frantic and … desperate, almost. 

He doesn’t think twice of it, at first, his mind half on his textbook and half on the frustrated huffs of air Magnus is letting out, but his eyes catch on his name, and he glances back for a more focused second look. 

_ Such a pity, someone so witty - you think you’re all that, Alec, don’t you? A Lightwood, breaking the rules by proudly standing for Hufflepuff, starring in their Quidditch team despite your young age -- truly a wizard of the century! _

_ Right? _

_ I think not. I think you’re a weak excuse for a wizard, a fool at the end of a wand who doesn’t know what he’s doing with it, but keeps waving it around in hopes that something might spark off the end. You can’t create magic that isn’t there, Alec. So my suggestion to you? Just give up. If not for yourself, then for the rest of us.  _

It’s not signed, not even a half-hearted ‘anonymous’ tacked at the end.

“Alexander?”

Alec scrunches the note, slipping it into the pocket of his robes. Magnus is squinting at him, concern bleeding through the downturn of his mouth, and Alec’s hand is shaking in his pocket even as he replies: “Magnus.”

He wonders if he’ll be able to keep up with Magnus’ stare without breaking, the balled-up note rough against his clammy palm, but then Magnus is glancing down at his homework and Alec feels the knot around his chest loosen, just slightly. 

Whoever the note is from, and why they left it are all problems for Alec to deal with; the last thing Magnus needs to worry about is some stupid, anonymous hate that wasn’t even directed at him. 

No, this is Alec’s problem. He’ll figure it out, somehow, on his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! ♥ the next chapter is a real treat, trust me! 
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**Author's Note:**

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